


Langst Oneshots, Drabbles, and Promts. Oh My!

by Dusti21



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), How Do I Tag, How Many Lance Tags Can I Use?, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, Why am I hurting this poor child, give him a hug, the world may never know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 23:37:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11747532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusti21/pseuds/Dusti21
Summary: I'll update this when I'm board. Or feeling angsty. Nothing like projecting your issues onto innocent characters~! No, seriously. That's probably all this will be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Eyy so this is the first chappy~ I'd love to hear what you dudes think down in the comments ^_−☆.

Lance's POV:

My eyes flash open, glancing around the room in unawares. They flutter shut again as a sigh escapes my lips, and I murmer quietly, "I fell asleep..?".

As I stretch out my back, sickeningly loud pops sound around the room, one by one. A feeling of dread washes over me, replacing the once calm and serene aura. I involuntarily wince at the impeading dreariness, deciding that today- today would not be a good day. 

My bed groans as I retreat from its comforting warmth, deep blue sheets crinkling in the empty spaces my body once occupied. The room is blank, dull, and I refuse to call it mine. If I did, well... it would just make this feel permanent. Then this would feel as if it belonged to me, but well, in reality- none of this would ever be mine. It's part of the business I suppose... none of us are permanent, who knows if we'll return home..? If we'll ever see our families again? If... if we'll ever see earth again..?

I shake my head, trying to physically remove the thoughts. I plaster a faux smile onto my face, peeling the overnight facemask off and slipping from my royal blue robe.  

I sigh as I stand before the bedroom door, clothes basically hanging from my lean and bony form. Sucking a sharp breath in through my teeth I replaster the smile and swing the door open with vigor. At the sight of an empty castle coridor I slump in relief, fake smile practically melting from my face, and slowly begin to slink down the barren hallways, praying the day wont be too exhausting...


	2. Drops Of Jupiter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Character Death up ahead... just a warning--

She choked back a sob, the smooth alien material at the focus of her vision. A gentle tug on her dress bringing her back to the present. "Mamá? What's wrong mamá?" The innocent tone of her daughters voice broke her barriers, and her eyes erupting into tears. She clutched her little girl and sobbed, drawing panic into her tiny frame "M-MAMÁ?! Mama whats the matter? Mama??"

The commotion drew out her siblings whom were laced with worry. "Marciel? Mamá? Wh-..?" Anabeth, the oldest of the sisters cried out before catching sight of the object of her mothers distress. After reading the words engraved into the foreign metal she fell to her knees, rubbing at her eyes as she too began to sob. 

Roberto and Emanuel, the two twin brothers of the large family ran to the large box and clutched it, crying hysterically. 

Finially, their mother regained her sences and enraptured all of her remaining children into a hug, shushing them with gentle words of heartbroken comfort.

When they had calmed partially, she ushered the sense-numbed children into their house and returned to their garden,  _his_  garden, and silently slipped the lid off of the alien box, covering her trembling lips with a frail and shaky hand. She sobbed once more, falling to her knees before her baby boy. He was smiling, despite the fact that he was missing his right arm, despite the fact that he had a long gash spreading across where his eyes- oh  _god his beautiful baby blue eyes_ \- should be, he was smiling. Not just any smile, he was  _proud_.

Her little soldier would never sing for her again, for he was taken by the very same stars he cherished so. 

 

Her little Baby...

 

she sobbed again. 

 

_'Here lies the body of a strong warrior, whom gave his life in his service while protecting a fellow teammate and millions of innocent lives. The blue paladin of Voltron,_

_Lance McLain.'_


End file.
